The Century - Blencathra

This was it, time to bag the century. It was one of my half-day Friday's. I'd packed my rucksack the night before so as soon as I got home from work, I slung everything in my car, quickly got changed and headed north.

Before I took on my 100th unique Wainwright fell I stopped at a location I had read about in one of my Lakeland photography books - Tewet Tarn. Parking up on a nearby verge, I booted up and headed along the road for a short distance before following a fingerpost sign & taking the footpath through the fields towards St John's in the Vale.

The were plenty of Swaledale sheep milling about - enjoying the afternoon sunshine, along with a couple of walkers sat having a picnic in the shade of a stone wall, and not too far in the distance was a paraglider soaring above in the breeze. After a couple of minutes walking through the fields, the tarn appeared.

The ground near the shore was quite boggy & full of reeds, so gave it a wide berth, walking around the edge to the far side, which would give me the best view of my next fell to conquer - the mighty Blencathra.

I headed back to the car, and drove back along the A66 to the small hamlet of Scales. Taking the minor road that headed up beyond the village, I followed the single track road to its terminus, where there were parking spaces for half-a-dozen or so cars. Rucksack on my back, I found the footpath & began the ascent.

Ahead of me was Mousthwaite Comb, and I could see the path heading onwards, gradually at first the to head of the valley before rising in a wide arc onto the tops. But on consulting my maps, that wasn't the way I would be going.

Instead, after a couple of hundred yards, a narrow path turned off sharply left, back on itself up the fell side. It was a short, sharp, steep climb out of Mousthwaite Comb and onto the grassy flanks of Scales fell. This part of the ridge was very wide, with a well used path snaking its way up. I passed a couple of walkers - and their dogs as I climbed. Eventually the route flattened on approach to the top of Scales fell. The ridge line path continued onward across the top of Doddick fell, with Blencathra's famous saddle further ahead.

The view north was over towards Sharp Edge, and I could just make out two walkers scrambling over its crest. Sharp Edge is one of the famous ridge scrambling routes in the Lake District, along with both Striding Edge & Swirral Edge on Helvellyn, and it's equally as perilous. Famous mountaineer & Yorkshireman, Alan Hinkes OBE described Sharp Edge as a "mini mountaineering expedition". With bare rock, polished smooth by hundreds of walking boots, and sheer, 500 foot drops on either side it is very exposed for anyone crossing the top - and well deserves its Grade 1 scramble rating. The edge then ends with a steep scramble up on to the northern end of the saddle - Atkinson Pike.

I wouldn't be tackling Sharp Edge on this trip - not with my heavy wild camping backpack - that would be an adventure for another time, but I did stop for a few minutes to watch the pair of walkers traversing its crest.

Before I would reach the top of Blencathra, I had to ascend the smaller peak of Doddick Fell. There was a short, steep slope to climb, but there was a stone path which zig-zagged its way up, making the walk much more manageable.

Crossing the top of Doddick Fell was a breeze - a nice wide path on grassy slopes, with glorious views. Looking south was 'peering into the abyss', as the crags sharply dropped away, looming over the Threlkeld fields and over to the the central & southern fells, with Great Gable & the mighty Scafells being prominent peaks in the far distance.

The final ascent to the top of Blencathra began. As throughout most of the walk, the path was excellent as it weaved its way up the final slope - and in places was easily as wide as a road - although I wouldn't recommend driving along it!

I topped out onto the saddle, and headed to the small, but prominent high-point to the south. There, was a small rocky summit, no cairn, but a small concrete ring set into the ground with the words 'Ordnance Survey Trigonometrical Station' inscribed on top. (#100 - Blencathra - 2,847ft) The fell sharply dropped away to the south, with a small path leading straight down.

Interestingly, the Blencathra summit actually has three different names:

• Saddleback - from Victorian times, & named for the shape of the summit plateau when viewed from the east. Ordnance Survey maps still label the mountain as 'Saddleback or Blencathra'.
• Hallsfell Top - named for the central, and highest fell which makes up the Blencathra group (which consists of (from west to east): Blease Fell, Gatesgill Fell, Hallsfell, Doddick Fell & Scales Fell)
• Blencathra - the original Cumbric name, the use of which was revitalised in the 1960's by Alfred Wainwright in his Pictorial Guides. It is thought this name derives from the cumbric words: blain; meaning top / summit, & cathrech; meaning seat, or chair.

The Hallsfell ridge is also another popular route to the top of the mountain, and is another Grade 1 scramble, climbing 2,325 feet over 2¼ miles from Scales village. The end of this route was the small path leading over the precipitous edge.

In contrast, the northern side of the summit was a wide & grassy plateau, and it was here that I found a suitably flat pitch for the night. It was around 6:30pm when I decided to raise the tent... thinking there wouldn't be any more visitors to the summit that evening.

Shortly after unpacking, I spotted a silhouette on the ridge to the west; a lone walker approaching the summit. I then heard voices approaching from the Doddick fell direction, and 2 fell runners appeared shortly after. A few minutes later, 2 mountain bikers appeared from the northern side of the plateau. They each spent a few minutes on the summit before making their way back down, and I could then happily relax in the wilderness and start cooking my dinner.

Although it was bright sunshine & clear blue skies, once the sun began to set the temperature began to drop. Luckily I'd brought my down jacket, so layered up whilst eating my chili & rice before retiring into my tent for the night.

I first woke around 5:50 AM as the first rays of the morning sunshine hit the tent. I peeked out to see a bright, cloudless sky, but thought I'd give it another half hour or so before getting up. Eventually I got out of the tent and set my Jetboil brewing to make a coffee, which I drank on the summit along with a couple of cereal bars. My tent was covered in morning dew, and there was condensation on the inside of the outer-skin. I was hoping an hour or so in the bright sunlight would help some of the moisture evaporate.

It was just before 7:30 am when I saw the first walker approaching the summit. With the weather like it was, it wouldn't be long before there were more people here, so I packed away my tent, hauled the rucksack on my back and set off.

Crossing the saddle meant descending the wide grassy slopes of Hallsfell Top northwards to a small summit tarn half way across. There was no wind and the tarn was reminiscent of an infinity pool. Carrying on, I approached a large array of white stones, positioned into a large cross.

The quartz-rich rocks are mentioned in Wainwright's pictorial guide. The original builder of the cross is unknown, but it is believed to have originally been a memorial to a walker who lost their life on a nearby slope. It was then in the 1940's that a local man from Threlkeld, Harold Robinson, took it upon himself to extend the cross to its current size, carrying quartzite stones up from the local fellsides.

From the cross it was a short, gently ascending slope to the northern end of the saddle - Atkinson Pike. It isn't far from here where the path from Sharp Edge tops out - so I wandered a few yards east for a closer look at the Edge. No-one was crossing yet, but it sure was perfect conditions & it would no doubt be busy later in the morning

Retracing my steps to Atkinson Pike cairn, a path turned off down the western slope off the saddle - a slope known as Blue Screes. After navigating along the stony path down the screes, my next Wainwright summit wasn't too far away, but the 'climb' would be much different.

In fact, it wasn't really a climb. Mungrisedale Common is a sprawling, boggy flat-topped dome. This was obviously one of Wainwright's least favourite fells - not even detailing a route of ascent - and proclaiming it is a place best left to shepherds & their sheep.

The squelchy paths were easy enough to follow, two perpendicular tracks - not dis-similar to quad-bike tracks - which would make sense for the shepherds to use. The only company on the walk was a herd of Swaledale sheep investigating the grass & moss for food. The views weren't amazing either - it was like being in an amphitheatre, with the higher fells of Blencathra & Skiddaw blocking any views to the east, south & west, and Great Calva blocking the views north. The weather did help to improve the views of these fells though - but I can imagine it's a miserable felltop to be on in bad weather.

Eventually a small summit cairn was reached - and I took the opportunity to have a sit down on the dry rocks. (#101 - Mungrisedale Common - 2,077ft). From the summit, a gap between the descending flanks of Blencathra & Skiddaw to the south afforded a 'window' to the north western fells of the Newlands & Buttermere valleys.

To head off the common meant plodding northwest through more boggy ground, which in some parts involved finding routes through peat hags, which are caused by following water washing away the mud to form 'islands' of peat. After a while, the ground became less boggy, and the quad-bike tracks returned before reaching dry ground, where I was glad to see a rocky path. I had reached the col at the head of the Glenderamackin valley. From here the official route I was following was to head east up to Bannerdale Crags, however I could see a cairn on a hilltop not to far away to the north.

I checked my Wainwright book, and it was Bowscale Fell. It was still relatively early (around 9:30am) so I went for it and followed the path north. Again a depression in the land meant there was boggy terrain to navigate, so meant I was weaving around to pools and boggy sections. After the boggy section though, the climb began and in no time at all the sumit was reached. (#102 - Bowscale Fell - 2,306ft). This was more like it. A large stone wind shelter had been consructed on the highest point - interstingly the summit cairn was about 100 meters away & slightly lower. I paid it a visit to make it official anyway.

The views east were stunning, over the Penrith plains to the northern Pennines, with Cross Fell still partially snow-capped.

Fun fact time - At 2,930 feet, Cross Fell is actually higher than Blencathra, and is the only one in the top 11 of England's highest mountains that isn't located in the Lake District.

The view south was even more stunning, the great cliffs of Bannerdale Crags were right in front, with Sharp Edge & the saddle of Blencathra just to the right.

That was my next stop - Bannerdale Crags. However I didn't fancy plodding back through the bog again, so again studied my Wainwright guide, which suggested a back track along the path for a short while until I see the standing stone, the follow a path from there towards the edge of the crags, to follow the path round & on to the top.

...Which is what I did. I kept my eyes peeled for the 'standing stone', and spotted a spike of a rock, no more than 18 inches high stood upright in the middle of the grass. From there & on approaching the top of the crags, the path was stony and narrow - but the view was fantastic - looking across and down the 'hanging' valley of Bannerdale, with its tributaries flowing off the hillsides & into a steam running along the bottom.

The path traversed close to the edge until a point where path of the path had collapsed. From there the path instead moved away from the crags & became a straight, steady walk to the cairn at the top.

There was a wonderful view of Blencathra's saddle from here. However this cairn, with its vertical stone, wasn't the highest point on the hill. I followed the path which ran in the direction and not far along, reached a less photogenic carin which a bent metal pole sticking out of it - marking the fell's highest point. (#103 - Bannerdale Crags - 2,241ft)

All of a sudden a Dalmatian dog appeared at the side of me. Obviously I was taken aback. I looked around for its owners and saw a couple just arriving at the previous cairn & starting to make there way to this one.

I continued following the path which then swung right down the fellside. Every now and again the Dalmation would run up to investigate - no doubt it could smell the remains of last nights chili in my rubbish bag. The path weaved between a small section of peat hags, before the path eventually worked its way back to col crossroads I was at earlier in the morning.

It was (more or less) all downhill from here. Taking the path down the eastern side of the valley following the course of the Glenderamackin river. This pat was relatively quiet - I passed no more than three people heading the opposite direction. The path on the other side of the valley was a different story. Dozens of people were heading up the path towards Scales Tarn, with quite a few continuing on to tackle Sharp Edge.

The valley was a great vantage point to view walkers on the Edge - seeing them marching along the ridge like ants.

A mile or so along the path, I reached a wide wooden footbridge - where a few people were sunbathing on a patch of grass nearby - crossing the river, the path then ascended to the head of Mousthwaite Comb, before it then descended back down the other side. Quite a few more people were passed on this section of path, but as I headed back down, the car park - and my car - and the end of another cracking wild camp.

That's 103 fells ticked off - 111 to go!

The idea for this route came from walklakes.co.uk - Walk 24 - 'A Walkers Blencathra', with Bowscale fell also being included, covering 10.9 miles in total.

Mark